Reclaim
by Jess J
Summary: Mina Murray was used to her past coming back to haunt her when she slept, but when the past comes back in her life, she has to face something far worse than her own demons if she is to keep her fellow League members from falling at the hands of her sire.
1. The Time

Author's note: There are probably plenty of League stories that has Dracula come back or something similar, but I still had to give it a try myself. Although Dracula is not the only character from the novel that is coming back in this story. Also, Dracula in this story is fashioned after Michael Sheen in Underworld. Ironic that a werewolf is my pick for this Dracula I suppose. Anyway, please review, as I am an addict, and hope ya'll enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing really, Dracula belongs to whoever has the copyright now, as well as any other characters mentioned in this that are from that novel. The League of Extraordinary Gentle men belongs to Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill, and I suppose 20th Century Fox. Please do not sue me. Savvy?

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PROLOGUE: THE TIME

_"It is almost time now."_

"Time for what?'

__

"You shall see, my dear Mina." A small, sadistic chuckle. _"You shall see."_

"Why can you not leave me be?" A pleading tone now. "Let me live on in peace, please."

A wide, wolfish grin, white fangs bared. _"But where is the fun in that?" _The grin is gone. _"You think I delight in tormenting you, you believe I haunt you merely to drive you mad."_

An empty laugh. "And you would have me think other wise? You have never done anything to prove me wrong." Blue eyes turn red.

He moves closer, taking another step towards her frozen form. _ "It does not have to be like this, Mina. You do not need to fight me, why even try? There is no husband to honor now, no professor that has fooled himself into believing he is ridding the world of an vile abomination."_

"And whose fault that they are gone is it?" Her throaty voice is now a feline's hiss. "You killed them, you wore them down until they defeated you, making them too weak to go on any longer. You destroyed them." Red eyes close. "You destroyed me."

_"I made you an even more extraordinary creature than you already were. Why else would you be in this league?" _A hand, gentle, reaches out, cupping her cheek. _ "Tell me, do you truly hate what you have become? Do you truly despise me as much as you profess to?"_

Eyes, blue again, open and meet a gray pair. "Yes."

_"Is that so?" _It is his turn to hiss. _"Well, I find your taste in men to prove your lies, Mina."_

An incredulous stare. "What on earth on you talking about?"

_"Have you not noticed how you keep getting involved with men who have a darkness to them? How you have found yourself drawn to men with secrets, with demons?" _His eyes are like storm clouds now, hinting at anger seething beneath his skin. _"That was all Dorian was to you, just a substitute."_

Blue eyes are once again red. "How dare you. I had no clue of Dorian's true nature.'

_"Oh really? You would have me to think otherwise?" _A mockery of her earlier words, twisted and cruel from his mouth. _"It was there, Mina, like the scent of a female in heat. You could sense it, you wanted it, because it made you think of me."_

"But look what happened." Confidence is back in her voice. "I killed him, just as I killed you."

_"You could never kill me, Mina."_

"I did. And then I watched my husband and a good friend die. And I now have put all my lusts for darkness behind me. You are gone, Dorian is gone, and I have a new life. I have new chances at real love, not the twisted replica you offered me."

_ "Ah, I see. Do you mean the boy? No, that is more maternal, protective. Not the love you speak of. The pirate? No, there is only respect and friendship. The thief? No, merely tolerance and sometimes fondness." _A pause, gray eyes lighting up. _"Or is it, the good doctor?"_

Her body stiffens, telling him he is right. "You cannot hurt him, any of them. So why try so desperately to discover who it is?"

A hands, not so gentle this time, grabs her chin, making her look at him. _"Because you are mine. Never forget that. Besides, your choice proves again I am right. You are finding someone with their own darkness."_

"He is nothing like you. Nothing! If anything, he is more like Jonathan." her face softens, eyes blue and filled with memories.

Storm clouds gather again, rage filling his veins. Hands pin her down on the ground, fangs bared. _"He is more like me than you admit. He has his own, personal demon that even takes form, takes over when he lets it, when he gives in. And only then. When you see that demon, you see the darkness in your doctor's soul." _Lips brush against hers. _ "And you want it. Because it is the closest thing to me you think you can ever have."_

Expression passive, blue eyes staring up at the darkening clouds. "Wrong, so very wrong. I am the closest thing to you. I want someone of the light."

_"Will you still think this way when you see me again, when you feel me outside of these dreams?"_

Confusion sweeps over her features.

_"Like I told you, it is almost time now."_

***

A tall, slender man entered a dimly lit parlor, another man, not quite as slender as the first man and a few inches taller, following the first man's lead. Both men were somewhat pale, though the first, slightly shorter one was incredibly pallid and his eyes glowed a pale blue.

Hair perfectly slicked back, his suit without a single wrinkle it seemed, the first man appeared as noble as any other gentleman of the British upper class. His long hands were gloved, despite the fairly warm temperature. Black boots made no sound upon the floor as he walked into the room, and his stride was long and languid.

His companion, a mild mannered looking man with soft brown and rather unruly hair that fell past his ears, was dressed just as impeccably, though minus the gloves. His skin, though pale, was still of fairly healthy hue. Dark brown eyes, not quite as piercing as the first man's, were still just as cold. Even though his clothes were just as expensive and perfectly pressed, as well as up to date with the latest fashions, the man seemed ill suited to them and out of place in such noble, aristocratic surroundings.

"Mr. Campion Bond?" the first man inquired, and a stout, middle-aged man with black hair and perfectly trimmed beard rose from his seat in the parlor, nodding his head in reply.

"That would be me. Would you like the lighting to be a bit brighter?" he asked nonchalantly. "Or do you both prefer the dimness of the room?"

"Please, the lighting is fine," the first man replied, his companion silent and expression restrained. "Now, let us get down to business." He sat down in the chair across from Bond's, motioning for him to sit as well. The grim companion stayed on his feet.

Campion Bond, who did not appear pleased with being pushed around so easily, stiffly sat and glared at the slender figure in front of him. "I am still a bit unsure of your news, I mean, wasn't this, creature killed several years ago?" Bond asked skeptically.

"Because, I know him better than almost anyone. At least anyone still living in a sense. Only one other person that still walks upon the earth in a solid form knows this monster better than I. And she is on your team."

Bond raised an eyebrow, but remained expressionless otherwise. "So, you believe that the creature that turned you and Mrs. Murray into vampires is returning yet again from its grave, and is seeking revenge. Anything else?"

"He is not just seeking revenge. He is seeking what he believes is his. Mainly, Mrs. Murray. She is in more danger than anyone else, including myself," the man replied, his pale eyes seeming to turn whiter. "But everyone is at risk, because he is growing stronger than I have ever known him to be. Vengeance has a way of doing that to people, I hear," he added, sending a brief glance towards the stoic beside his chair.

Bond nodded, rubbing his chin with his left hand. "I see. Well, I cannot promise you cooperation from the League, for they have shown they do not feel the need to listen to me or Her Majesty. But since one of their own seems to be in danger, you have a better shot."

The man nodded and stood. "Thank you, Mr. Bond. We shall be going, alert us when the League has arrived and are ready to hear my news." He started striding towards the door, his companion following, but Bond was not through yet.

"I know who you are, Mr. Renfield, and I know why you are involved in this, but what does your companion have to do with all of this?"

"I was a protégé of Van Helsing," the second man finally spoke, his voice smooth and cultured. "And now that he is dead, it is my duty to carry on his mission."

***

Pain was something he had learned to ignore long ago. He felt it, but in a detached way, as if he were observing it, not experiencing it. Now though, now he felt such an excruciating, indescribable pain in his chest. He had felt it for years now. He had endured and waited, biding his time.

He sighed, remembering the kiss that had done him in, sealed him to this temporary fate. The searing kiss from one of his own. He could still taste her on his lips. Could still remember the warmth of her blood flowing through his veins. He wanted to feel that again.

With a snarl, he yanked, pulling out the source of his pain. 

He had waited long enough.


	2. Fear Spreading Like a Flood

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this fic. They all belong to much wealthier people with copyrights, and I am just borrowing them. Please do not sue me. Savvy?

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CHAPTER ONE: FEAR SPREADING LIKE A FLOOD

Mina's nightmares were growing more and more violent, steadily getting worse every night. The other league members could tell, even some of the Nautilus' crew had begun to notice. Something was plaguing her, but she had only drawn into herself more, closing everyone off without ever truly being rude or cold.

Nemo worried over it silently, offering her chances to talk every time he felt she might listen to him. Skinner, he decided to simply keep his mouth shut on serious matters and act natural. Sawyer was unsure of how to act around her period, and was still mourning Quartermain's death.

Dr. Jekyll though, avoided her as best he could. Hyde, though not quite as vulgar as he had been before the league, was more interested in how he could use Mina's haunted state to his advantage than anything else when he was around her. And Jekyll's own feelings for her spurred his demon on even more.

The few times he had come into Mina's path, he had simply inclined his head slightly with a nervous glance and moved on, only talking to her if she spoke first, which lately she had not done at all with anyone. And at dinner, Jekyll was fortunate enough to be at the opposite end of the table. Even then Hyde's lewd ideas would flash through Jekyll's mind, making him sick and nervous, though he was taking more and more control.

It was just that Mina was his weakness. Jekyll was too shy and nervous and shamed to ever attempt to be barely even friends with the fellow scientist, but Hyde was quiet eager to toy with Jekyll's insecurities and feelings over her. Hyde had always been interested in her, but when Jekyll had shown genuine interest, Hyde saw the chance to have a real field day.

Jekyll was, much to his shame, truly thankful Dorian Gray had been the true turncoat. If not, he feared he would have let Hyde take over completely, especially now that it was apparent how badly effected Mina was by her dreams, egging Hyde's cruel nature on even more. And Gray, he had known, he had seen Jekyll's infatuation with her. Taunting him for it. Acting as judge and jury, itching to become execution.

He would have been even worse to Mina probably, only it would have been so subtle, she might not have even noticed. She barely seemed to notice much of anything now, she simply did as was requested of her if her services were needed, otherwise she kept to herself, rarely ever venturing outside her room.

Jekyll was partly thankful, but even more worried. Thankful that he had a better chance of avoiding her, but worried she would finally lock herself in there, cutting off the world and giving over to insanity, to letting her mind slip so that she could escape whatever it was that haunted her so.

Henry Jekyll knew all too well how powerful that temptation was.

_Yes, you know how blissful it can be once surrendering as well,_ Hyde whispered inside Jekyll's mind.

Jekyll told him to shut up and continued on his way to the main room where Nemo had called all the league members. Apparently, they were needed again.

***

"Do you really think Mina will help us? It is quite possible she may want to avoid any involvement at all after everything she went through."

Renfield shook his head. "No. I know her. And I know she will understand that she cannot run from this." He turned his head towards his companion. "From him." He watched grimly as the sun rose, lighting up a new day.

"I know. She would never refuse to fight him. Not after all that has happened, all his done." A short pause, and then, a whisper. "All he has taken.

Renfield nodded. "Yes." Abruptly, he clenched his eyes as he felt a stab of pain run through him, starting in his head and traveling down to his stomach.

"What is it, what is he doing?"

Renfield pushed away his friend's arms, steadying himself. He blinked several times and looked up. "He cut me off." It was barely above a whisper, the dreaded statement. Both men knew it would happen sooner or later. Both feared it. "He must have fed."

"I hope you are right about Mina. Because if you aren't, we have no way of tracking him now."

"I know," Renfield replied, grabbing his coat. "Let's go."

***

It felt good, walking. He had forgotten what it was like almost. It was a simple pleasure in life far too many mortals took for granted. How easily it could be taken, the ability to walk upon the earth, to carry oneself across a path or a floor, through the woods, over bridges.

A brief surge of anger swept through him, but it was easily contained, bottled up in a reserve. There would be a time for that later. For now, he had a voyage to join. He had always enjoyed London's seasons, the rain and fog, dampness in the air. It was like home, only with much bolder inhabitants. Foolish inhabitants.

Not a sound was made as he continued to walk away from his meal, the graceful doe's body lying on the ground in a crumpled, bloodied heap. Deer's blood was not the best, but it would suffice. It had given him enough strength to fulfill the most important task of cutting off his traitorous fledgling.

Yet again, a flicker of anger, a change in his eyes. Yet again, it was quickly dispelled, calm overtaking his demeanor with lightning speed.

He smiled. It was a beautiful, stormy day. He looked up, the clouds darkening as he did. He watched, eyes glowing red as thunder resounded through the trees. A quick flash of light, then another rumble echoing the lightening. He began his walk again, satisfied.

The rain started to fall around him, on him, pouring down on him as he carelessly walked on, closing in on the nearest village, a place to find a horse that could take him to the train station.

He knew that once he reached town, all would be again trembling in fear. Just as it should be.

***

It had been a long time since Mina had felt this lust run through her body. Yes, she had felt the bloodlust natural to her kind, she had given in to her thirst for the crimson liquid regularly, accepting what she was as best she could. But this, this was beyond that.

She felt his hunger for blood, his lust for that sweet, tangy liquid, burning hot as it flowed through living, breathing, bleeding creatures. His desire to drain a being dry and feast on its heart until he was sated.

Only, he was never sated.

Mina felt her breathing grow heavy, labored, and she could vaguely feel his probing presence in her mind. She wanted to scream out in rage and despair, her body on fire yet frozen to the core, and she craved. Oh, she craved, and she hated him for it.

Hated herself for it.

Steadily regaining her composure, she let her mind race, her thoughts troubled and confusing and all questions without answers. She knew she should wait, address this issue once the meeting was over, but then again, this was more important.

This was Dracula.

Suddenly, Mina was aware of eyes watching her. She looked up to see Captain Nemo regarding her with what could be taken as concern or worry, but Mina simply looked away, slightly, and she knew unjustly, angered by his stare.

She sat silently, waiting for all the others to come in. Once they had gathered around the long table, everyone turned to Nemo, awaiting the news of their latest mission to save the world from some villain on a power trip.

Mina almost smiled at the thought of Dracula dispensing their enemy for them, making sure no other even dared to think they could be more powerful then he was. But the thought that this was indeed true kept that smile from forming.

"Mr. Bond has informed me that there is a great threat gaining power in Europe. What or who he has not said, but he wishes for us to come to a meeting in London. Apparently there is someone who is more aware of the situation and better equipped to inform us of what has happened," Nemo explained. His expression was unreadable as usual, but Mina noticed when his eyes flickered over to her for a moment.

"Sounds more mysterious than our first mission," Skinner stated before downing a shot of bourbon. "Dangerous, top secret, need to know, has potential." Skinner paused, then glanced over at Nemo. "Wait, why are they informing you? I'm the one who's the real agent for them."

"What, suffering from a bruised ego now?" Mina quipped softly, but Skinner only grinned back, showing nothing but air. This was nothing more than routine behavior. Mina quipped and he shrugged it off, Skinner smacked her arse every so often, she slapped him when he did. It was strange, but then, weren't they all a little strange anyway?

"They informed me this time, Mr. Skinner, because you were nowhere to be found and Mr. Bond apparently feels that this is too important to be delayed by a search for you," Nemo told them. "Now, we have charted course for England, and should arrive within the day. I suggest we all rest and prepare for another quest."

Mina was the first to rise from her chair, languidly moving away from the table with an ease that belied her inner turmoil. She noticed Sawyer glance at her, a kind smile on his boyish face, but she could not muster a smile of her own.

Stopping before she had even reached the, remembering she had placed her book on the table, where it still lay. She turned and nearly ran into Dr. Jekyll, fidgeting as he following the rest of them out of the room.

"Excuse me, sorry," he offered shyly, and Mina nodded.

"My fault, I was the one who stopped and turned without warning," she replied, almost smiling as she walked by towards the table, grabbing her book. She turned to find the follow scientist still standing there, watching her.

Immediately he turned red and walked out, never once glancing back as he hurried away to his quarters.

She had noticed his sidelong glances and daring looks, had secretly found it charming. But this was the first time for outright staring, and if it had been under normal circumstances, she might have liked it a bit more.

Now though, all she could think about, concentrate on, was Dracula. On her dream. What he had said.

Mina dropped her book.

Dracula would go after the League, immediately she was certain. He would target Jekyll first most likely, aware of all of her memories of Jekyll's actions. Aware of something she had not yet admitted. Aware of far too much.

"Damn you," she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. 

"Mrs. Harker?"

Mina opened her eyes, letting them meet Nemo's. She shook her head. "Forgive me, I was thinking aloud again. If you will excuse me," she hastily said, moving past him and down the corridor. She hurried back to her own room, never acknowledging anyone she passed by on the way.

***

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"Mina, you need to live every so often, there is so much to life!" Lucy exclaimed as she gave her friend a pleading look. "Please, come to the ball?" I would be ever so lonely without my dearest friend to help me select which man to take as my partner during each dance," she added with a wicked grin.

Mina smiled softly and finally nodded. "Oh, all right. I am just worried for Jonathan. His last letter was nearly a month ago, and he usually has a letter sent by now." The older of the two women sighed.

Lucy came over, sitting next to Mina with an arm wrapping around her friend's shoulder. "Do not fret so much. He is probably having a wonderful time, seeing those exotic foreign places!" Lucy tried to reassure Mina. "What you should be worrying about is if he has found a Romanian vixen to take your place," she teased.

"Lucy, please," Mina said with a slightly annoyed look. "Just because most of the men you keep in your company are only concerned with pleasure does not mean that is all every man cares about and thinks of constantly."

"Oh yes it does, and yes, they are, they do," Lucy replied, winking. "But Jonathan is probably an exception to the rule," Lucy added. "He does love you so, that much is obvious."

***

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"What happened to you, Jonathan? What did he do to you?" Mina asked her husband softly, stroking his care worn face.

Jonathan closed his eyes, shaking his head and moving her away. "It was not what he _did that has me so drained. It is what his _whores_ did," Jonathan practically hissed, startling his wife. He had always been of a quiet, calm, reserved disposition, but since his return from that accursed castle, he had changed._

"His whores?" Mina repeated. Her brow furrowed in confusion, unsure of what he meant. "Jonathan, what happened?"

Her husband looked up at her, his clear, blue eyes haunted. "Mina, forgive me please," he whispered. "They had some power, some force, some hold over me the moment I saw their eyes," he told her. "They drank my blood, my sweat," he paused, shuddering. "They took everything that should have been yours, and they made it disgusting."

Mina embraced Jonathan, stroking his hair. "It's all right now, Jonathan. They are still in Transylvania, they cannot reach you any more," she comforted him as he wrapped his own arms around her, holding her tightly. "We are safe now."

"No, my love. Never safe. They may still be at that castle, in those forbidden lands, the haunted mountains, but not he_. _He_ never sleeps. _He _will come, he has already come," Jonathan whispered. "Do you not see, Mina? _He will never stop_."_

***

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This is not your fault, none of the blame can fall on you. It is not your fault, nothing that happens, nothing that he does, none of the blood he has spills or will spill stains your hands. Even if you gave in. He would never stop.

Mina kept saying this in her head, repeating those words over and over and over in the hopes that she could finally make herself see reason. But reason was something that could not exist when Dracula entered the picture.

There was a touch, a caress of her mind, something probing but she shut her eyes, concentrating all her mental and physical energy on pushing the presence out of her mind. She was surprised at how easily the feeing left her.

"He must still be gaining strength," she muttered to herself. If he could not break past her barriers, he was still weak, his mental strength not even close to its peak yet. Which meant there was a possibility she had more time than she thought.

If she could only find a way to kill him, rid the earth of his presence once and for all. There had to be a way, but obviously it was nothing that had been done. He kept coming back, returning to walk amongst the mortals he preyed upon with his sadistic hunger. She shuddered as she felt his hunger enter her belly again. A part of her feared that it would take over her, gain control for one moment, and that would be her downfall.

All he needed.

Unable to contain all of her rage, mina knocked several bottles off of her table, careless of the liquids in them. They fell to the floor with a crash, the glass shattering and bringing her back to reality.

She was letting him win already, allowing him to get under her skin. She suddenly felt him at the back of her mind again, and she shuddered when she imagined his soft laugh, his confident eyes in that mask of a face.

Mina shivered now, her blood suddenly sluggish in her veins as she felt a chill pass through her.

Cruelty. Such cruelty when he laughed, when he stared at her. So much more when he smiled, a silver grin. Stained with crimson.

***

The wind was almost violent now, towering trees swaying like branches. Thunder rumbling low, flashes if light in the clouds, rain coming down so hard, so fast, it was like a fog. A stranger walked along to the stables. Black boots, black cape, black clothes of an ancient style. The storm had no effect on him, even though it seemed as though the rain beat harder on him than it did everywhere else.

Villagers shrank back into their homes, a cold fear sweeping through the town. Mothers tucked their children tightly into bed early, husbands loaded their guns, grabbed their daggers. Dogs whimpered and fled to shelter, cats hissed.

The dark stranger entered the stable, walking past neighing horses, bucking and kicking at their stalls in fear. Fear followed in his wake while power emanated from him, hanging over him like a second skin. He finally stopped when he reached the calmest horse, a stallion.

As still as a rock, the horses huffed and looked around in fear, backing away as best he could from the stranger, but otherwise made no move.

The man grinned and stretched out a hand, holding it still. His grin widened, baring white, too white, teeth as the horse neared. He rubbed the animal's velvety nose, then opened the gate to the stall. He led the horse out, whispering soft words in his native tongue. His voice was soothing.

Far too soothing, just as his teeth were far too white, just as his eyes were far to piercing, just as his presence was far to overwhelming.

Relaxed, the horse allowed the stranger to saddle him, quickly preparing the horse for their long ride. The other horses had calmed, the whispering voice calming, soothing, putting their frightened instincts to rest, beguiling their senses of what it was that was speaking to them.

It was pouring even harder, if that was possible, when the stranger rode his horse out of the town, the stallion galloping away as fast as his long legs could carry himself and his rider. They would reach the station by midday.


	3. Wrath

Author's note: Well, I'm finally updating this. Hopefully I'll even get another chapter up within a week or two. My muse has been balking at this fic for a while, but hopefully I do the characters justice. Please review, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own, please don't sue. Savvy?

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CHAPTER TWO: WRATH

The three men stared up at the brooding castle on the cliff with fear, their bodies shaking from something much more gripping and sinister than the cold. But they swallowed the terror and the lumps in their throats and walked towards it.

Castle Dracula.

A forbidden place that now had to be explored. The villagers had all voted and decided that they had to find out if the strange truly was the long dead count, if they had again seen Vlad Tepes walking amongst their homes, his feet stepping onto the ground silently as storms raged on around him.

The three men walking towards it now had been the only volunteers, not that they were surprised. In truth, they had surprised everyone, including themselves, when they had stood and announced that they would travel to the dark, demonic place and visit the cursed tomb of the vampire lord.

And now they were nearing it, the sky still full of angry clouds that poured down cold rain as the wind blew savagely, as if nature itself was trying to keep the men away. Or if something completely unnatural was manipulating nature to protects itself and its home.

The latter was the most likely in the men's minds.

Suddenly a great howl was heard, its song a warning and a threat, coming from the castle, and then a shriek as mournful and cruel as a banshee's. The men stopped cold, icy terror freezing their blood. Those sounds were not natural sounds of nature's beasts of the woods.

Yet the men carried on. They volunteered, they were trusted, they would not give up so easily.

But they were fools.

A growl, low and angry, was heard, accompanied by the sound of something tearing through the woods in front of them, and then they saw a shape, lunging at them from the shadows of the trees. The men shouted in fear and turned, fleeing as fast as their mortal legs could carry them.

The beast snarled when it hit the ground and not one of them, rearing up and roaring, its long and sharp fangs bared as it charged after the men. It ran on all fours, quickly gaining on one of the men and tearing into him hungrily.

The other two men kept running, knowing they were no good and had no chance if they even looked back. Even as the doomed man's screams of agony became gurgled cries of death and the sounds of wet flesh being tear through and the stench of raw meat and spilled blood filled the forest, they kept running, ignoring the sounds and scents, focused on getting back to safety, getting their families and neighbors inside, avoiding the same horrid fate.

But the beast was not even close to sated, and its hunger spurred it on. Filling its belly as much as it could with the first man's flesh and marrow, it again charged, gaining up on the other two men. Soon sharp, long claws dug into another man's back, gripping and yanking him down.

This time, the last remaining man did stop, turning back briefly in surprise when he heard the grunt of pain and the sound of the fall from his companion. His eyes widened in fear as he saw the beast standing over his friend.

The beast was a werewolf, as they would have had suspected should they have had time to really think about it, for the werewolves of old had been the hellhounds of the count. It stood several feet taller than any mortal man, and it reared up and roared when it saw it was being watched. Its fur, matted in many areas with a dark, sticky liquid, was thick and long and blacker than the midnight sky. Its eyes were like amber gleaming in sunlight, small, wolf shaped irises barely noticeable. It's maw was long and wide open, crimson dripping from long fangs that could tear through any man's skull.

The man looked down at his struggled friend, slightly dazed from the fall and the wounds on his back, blood seeping out from under him. He looked up, his eyes terrified and pleading for help, too caught up in the pain and fear of the death awaiting him to care if he was being selfish.

But the man standing shook his head, eyes wide and he finally managed to turn away and run again even when the best roared again and the sound of flesh tearing and screams of agony filled the air again. He ran and panted, his body weary and his mind unable to register anything except that he had to keep running, he had to keep going, he had to get away.

Because once the wolf finished with its latest kill, it was only going to have one more prey left in the forest.

His legs were aching and growing sluggish, his lungs burning, his heart pounding painfully now. But he kept trying, he kept trying, even as he finally reached the end of the forest and reached his village finally, he kept running until he got to the square, where he finally stopped, almost collapsing as many of the other townsfolk rushed out as he yelled wordlessly.

They stared at him, confused and worried, approaching him when suddenly the large werewolf leapt from the forest and pounced on the terrified man, biting into his head. All the others screamed and gasped in horror before grabbing and pulling each other into their homes, locking and blocking their doors and windows quickly even as the last of the three volunteers screamed and then gurgled up his own blood while the werewolf tore into his flesh and filled itself one last time for the evening.

Castle Dracula was not to be disturbed. Not at day, and not at night. This was clear to the villagers now. They would not be so foolish again.

* * *

_"How fairs your husband, lovely Mina?" the count asked softly, a deceptively concerned smile on his face. He took off her cloak and tossed it aside as Mina stiffened slightly, hardly tricked by his manners and false concern._

_"Weak still from the torture he received at the hands of your whores," she replied, her voice biting and cold._

_Dracula made a tsking sound and came back around to stand in front of her yet again, close enough so that when Mina inhaled her chest touched his. "You should not use such coarse language, it does not suit a woman such as yourself," he remarked before suddenly grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her up against the wall with lightning speed._

_Mina cried out in surprise and slight pain, but did not fight him as he pressed himself against her. She began to pant in fear and that cursed desire he caused to grow inside of her. Her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him, trying to hide both elements coursing through her._

_Because both aroused him, called to him, tempted him, whetted his appetite. And it was now becoming apparent that he could smell and feel both of them, for there was an almost rabid look in his eyes._

_"Do not speak, do not fight, do not resist," he whispered softly, his voice once again deceptive. But this time, his body did not help with the deception, for everything about him other than his voice told her he was hungry, told her that he was craving._

_She could feel his hands slide down from her shoulders to her hips, gripping them as he pressed himself even closer, almost grinding against her._

_Mina could not find the strength to do any of the things he had told her not to do._

_The thought of trying to shove him away was fleeting in her mind, though she was thankful she still had enough fight in her to even have it at all. He was so strong in her mind, in her body, in her will. She was losing ground, and he was ready to devour her._

_Dracula leaned in close, his mouth almost brushing against hers. "I have not felt such passion in centuries, lovely Mina."_

_His lips, cold and demanding and painful, were then against hers, his tongue forcing its way inside her mouth even as she struggled for some reason she was starting to loose focus on. He coaxed her to give in though, his hands massaging her sides and hips through her dress, his tongue brushing against hers teasingly, hinting at forbidden things to come._

_Finally he pulled away from her, just as she gave in to the kiss, leaving her panting. He stared at her, eyes flashing red briefly, starving hunger and icy lust in them as he took in her disheveled appearance, her parted lips, her half closed eyes, her heaving chest._

_Tell me," he whispered the command, his once again gray eyes locking with her blue pair, his will touching hers, and she knew what he wanted. What he somehow needed to hear from her, had to make her say it aloud for his ears and hers. To make her openly acknowledge it in front of him._

_To her shame, she gave him what she wanted._

_She would hate herself for it for the rest of her life. She would curse herself for it. She would damn herself for it. But for some reason, she would never fully and completely regret it._

_"I want you to finish it."_

It was raining in London. Not a surprise for the League as they finally arrived at their destination. Though being in the same room where M had put most of them together brought up some, unpleasant memories. Which was probably one of the reasons why they were glaring at Campion Bond.

He didn't seem phased by it in the slightest.

"Welcome back to London," he greeted them with an almost condescending smile. He sat at the end of the table, not in the middle where M had sat. At least he didn't through that in their face.

Nemo bowed his head, the others nodded or waved their hands or completely ignored the greeting altogether. Mina was one of the latter. Normally she would have been more polite, but she felt edgy, hungry, almost as though her control was slipping and he was gaining.

But there was no chance of him already being there. He could not have been awake more than a day, two at most. He could not get there so quickly, it just was not possible by any ship or vessel except for the Nautilus.

Mina was growing more and more worried, and she was starting to let it show more and more often. She tried not to, but there was so much conflict going on in her head, and she was once again Mina Murray, a simple woman with a tormented fiancé and the prey of some unnatural being bent on making her his thoroughly and completely in every way.No.

She had to put an end to this, she had to stop giving him more and more ground. She closed her eyes and sighed silently, regaining her composure, and refocused on the meeting she was attending. Now was not the time, and she would not allow him to take first priority in her thoughts right now, not yet.Unless it has to do with how to kill him once and for all.

"Please, everyone, have a seat," Bond told them, gesturing to the chairs surrounding the table. "Our two guests should arrive at any moment. Once they do, we can get down to business," he informed the League as they each took a seat.

Mina finally was able to push the nagging presence from her mind, and she focused on her fellow league members and Bond. She focused her thoughts on the two guests, whoever they were. She just focused on everything she could.

It all led back to him.

Everything always led back to him now.

She let it all go back to him.

Well, now was the time to stop, and stop she would. So, she focused on the table. It would be a difficult feet for a table to lead her back to Dracula, after all.

* * *

_"You must spend a fortune on your furniture," Mina remarked dryly as Dracula led her through the estate. Everything was perfect and upper class, the finest wood, the finest linens, the finest craftsmanship. Of course, this was Dracula she was with, and he was nobility. Royalty._

_And he lived as royalty._

_"To you it would seem like a fortune. To me, beggar's change," he replied, no longer wearing a smile, though he was not frowning or scowling. His expression was almost blank, though his eyes gleamed with sinister delight as he led Mina by the hand, leading her upstairs._

_Mina was hardly surprised by the condescending statement as she followed the count._

_Dracula kept silent for the rest of the walk, and Mina decided to keep her own silence as well. There was so much going on without the words. His hand holding hers, his fingers cooling her skin, her heart pounding and her blood racing. The tension in the air, the scent of fear and desire._

_She was letting him lead her upstairs to Hell._

_"In only a few moments, all of this will be yours as well, lovely Mina," he whispered as they reached their destination. The bedroom. "Once I finish it, you will be mine, my companion for eternity, my equal, my mate, my queen. And you will own all that is mine and I will own all that is yours."_

_

* * *

_

Renfield knew something was wrong, as he gripped his cane tightly. It was like a tingling sensation at the back of his neck, causing the hairs to stand on edge, making a chill run up and down his spine, leaving a feeling of dread in his veins. He tried not to let it show, and that was when he realized what was wrong.

He was alone.

In the fog, the thick evening fog, he had gotten separated from his companion. And he had been so focused on trying to determine why he felt unnerved he had not paid attention to what was happening around him.

Renfield stopped abruptly then. It was obvious what was happening. He looked around, searching through the fog for a familiar personage. And he saw exactly who he had expected. Standing up to his full height, Renfield faced the dark male walking up to him. He would not cower as before. He would not listen and obey and plead for mercy. He was above that now, he could defend himself and he could keep himself from giving exactly what his sire wanted.

"Hello, Renfield," Count Dracula greeted softly, his voice charming, unnerving. He smiled, but his eyes were cold and threatening, the smile more like a scowl of anger coming from this being. "You did not expect to see me so soon."

"You never ask questions, do you?" Renfield replied, meeting the vampire's icy stare. Gray eyes colder and more brutal than any blizzard were fixed on Renfield, and he felt the familiar sickening fear grip his senses.

Dracula sniffed the air, a genuine smile, still cold and still cruel, forming on his lips. "Ah, I have missed the scent of your fear."

Suddenly Renfield was being held against the wall of a building, and Dracula had a death grip on the younger vampire's throat. He watched as Dracula took the cane from Renfield's grasp. "You helped take my life and my love, Renfield," the count said in a soft tone, void of any emotion.

Renfield was about to reply when he felt the sharp cold steel of the blade from his cane slice through his heart without any mercy, the stolen life in him seeping out with the blood that was not originally his. He began to slump, his eyes looking up at his sire. The last thing he saw was a satisfied expression cover Dracula's face.

Leaning over, Dracula whispered in Renfield's ear, not caring that the pitiful weakling would not hear a word spoken. "I will again miss the scent of your fear. But it is a small price to pay for the sight before me now."

* * *

_"You must be careful, he will not stop until he is destroyed or he has you, and he cannot be destroyed," the madman named Renfield told Mina, his eyes wide and pleading for something, his voice desperate and shaky._

_Mina neared his cell. "How do you know this?" she asked in a hushed, urgent tone. "Why does he want me?"_

_Renfield looked around, his eyes searching for the entity that haunted the man's every moment, waking and sleeping. He then swallowed audibly and grabbed Mina's hands through the bars of his cell door. "He desire you like no other. If he could love, I think he would love you."_

_Taken aback by the statement and Renfield's grip on her hands, Mina backed away quickly, nearly tripping and falling backwards. "How do you know such things?" she asked, loudly this time, frightened of the sense of despair overtaking her._

_How could such a creature as Dracula even come close to love? If he did, it had to be a twisted, dark, distorted thing that could bring no happiness. If Renfield was right, then Mina felt all hope slipping. For is Dracula could feel some sort of twisted love for anything, there was no hope of breaking his will._

_Renfield's pale eyes met Mina's frightened stare with pity and sorrow. "Because I know his thoughts. And all his thoughts are of you."_

_"You are one of his, aren't you," Mina stated more than asked, receiving a guilty nod from Renfield. "Then why betray him? Why risk such a fierce wrath?"_

_"Because I do not want to see you become the creature he wishes to make you."_


	4. Variations of Hate

Author's note: Well, at least this update didn't take me as long as the last one. Hopefully it's ok, I'm still struggling to get a grip on some of the characters. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and please review. Reviews would really help with this story.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to several people like Bram Stoker, Alan Moore, 20th Century Fox, and the names of the Brides belong to Stephen Sommers, as well as Universal Studios most likely. Please, don't sue me. I mean no copyright infringement. Savvy?

-------------------------

CHAPTER THREE: VARIATIONS OF HATE

She was a fragile thing with a disillusioned mind. She walked the streets, young, lithe body hiding the hardened woman inside as she searched for a man with a heavy purse and the promise of payment. It was apparent for any who truly looked upon her to see. It was so obvious even the blind would notice how she despised the men of all classes that paid her visits and paid her well.

It was time to release her from her cold, dreary existence.

Stepping out of the shadows, calm, gray eyes met her empty blue pair. Features that once were soft and innocent, now sharpened by hunger and struggle grew perplexed and frightened by the sudden appearance of the dark man in gentleman's clothing.

"Do not fear me," the man almost purred, his voice soft and dark. It soothed her nerves, her expression once again one of resignation and hatred hidden behind a false smile. But the man walked up to her slowly, as if approaching a cornered cat, a hand reaching out to stroke her hair almost tenderly. "You seem lost," he whispered.

The girl's eyes widened and narrowed in turn, darting about as she tried to determine if another was nearby. For the man in front of her never opened his mouth. There were no others, and the voice matched this man's, yet, it had not come from he himself.

Her alarm and confusion brought something of a smile to the dark man's face as he leaned down, softly placing cold lips against her lukewarm mouth. "I will take the pain away," he promised and kissed down her chin and jaw, his mouth easily finding her humming pulse. The sound of a gasp was all she let out when she felt the prick of fangs sliding into her neck, and then euphoria took over, a rush of gentle pleasure singing through her veins, lulling her to sleep in the man's cold but kind embrace.

When the last drop of her blood had sated his hunger, Dracula gently laid the prostitute down on the sidewalk, arranging her dress so that she was decently covered. He then exposed her neck, and scraped his fingernail across the two puncture wounds on her throat. It was not his intention that the London police find marks not seen in over two years.

Satisfied, Dracula once again fell into the shadows, the thick fog almost seeming to follow. He briskly walked along the streets and alleys of London, searching for his destination. He had missed seeing some of the sights of the city during his last visit. Might as well pass the time doing something interesting.

---

The sun shone high above in the noonday sky, light seeping through the dark clouds that hung over Transylvania like a blanket. Yet the sun was still visible, still bright, still shining with its ever present light that always seemed to bring warmth and comfort and a sense of safety to the villagers.

Which was probably why Aleera so despised it. Despised was not even a strong enough word. Loathe, abhor, there were others but she could not recall all of them at the moment.

Moving away from the window, Aleera wandered through the halls of Castle Dracula, searching for the gypsy girl. The sun's light breaking through the clouds had ruined her mood, and she was determined to get it back.

And she knew just how to do so.

Being the only bride left, Aleera had hoped to become Dracula's second in command and his only lover, but after his discovery of Mina Harker, things had taken a turn for the worst. Aleera had become even less important in her master's eyes then ever, his attention and his devotion and his affection, for one could not call it love, was directed all to Mina.

He was obsessed, and what scorned Aleera even more was that she knew Mina would never want Dracula truly, never would accept him, accept what he was, and would certainly never tolerate Aleera's presence.

He had ignored all his brides the first time he found Mina. Verona and Marishka had died at the hands of Mina's friends, and herself, yet he wanted Mina still. Even when she drove the blade through the ice of his heart, he still wanted her.

Since the deaths of her sisters, Aleera had grown moody and resentful, often feeding on five or more people a month just to spite her sire as he laid in wait, silver blade rammed through him and pinning him in his coffin.

But she had been rebuked for attempting to free him, to pull the sword out. She could still feel his displeasure, hearing his raging voice in her head, their mental link nearly burning her inside out.

That had made her want to despise him. Yet when he had awoken, and seen her, he had placated her with his will, calming her and making her earn for him once more, just as he always did. He did notice his bride when she was angered, at least. But then, his will dominated hers, and she was once more a prisoner, a slave to his wants and desires.

And when he had briefly pleasured himself in her, it had been Mina's name whispered and moaned and called out. It had been Mina had he seen, felt, desired.

The memory still made frozen blood heat up, made piercing greenish blue eyes flash crimson with rage, and worst of all, it made her heart lukewarm with hurt from a wound that would not heal in all eternity. But she at least had someone to take her pain out on.

Aleera walked into the throne room, finding Mariana in there, along with Zaharia, back in human form once more. This made things even more interesting.

Grinning impishly, Aleera moved swiftly, coming up behind Mariana, watching with condescending amusement as Zaharia growled and pulled his lover away from the vampire bride. She tsked at him, waving a finger.

"It is rude to assume the worst of someone, Zaharia. I should punish you for that," Aleera said softly in Romanian. She was actually of Hungarian descent, but Romanian was now her natural tongue after living with the Romanian vampire lord in his native land for centuries.

The gypsy glowered, his eyes flashing a metallic color briefly. It only served to make Aleera's grin widen, pristine fangs exposed. Zaharia, stood in front of Mariana, who was holding his shoulder, as if trying to calm him down.

How sweet.

It made Aleera want to rip the girl's throat out.

"What do you want, Aleera?" Mariana asked calmly, gripping Zaharia's shoulder tightly but there was comfort in the contact. A solace in the firm touch that was meant as a rebuke and as something to placate the beast inside the man.

Perhaps that was why Aleera hated them so. Something so foreign, something she should not have been able to comprehend much less yearn for, was right in front of her and yet she could never have it, never understand it.

She would rip it apart.

"I was just wondering if you happened to see how powerful and strong your lover was the past evening," Aleera said with a tone sweet as sugar and deadly as venom. Her innocent smile hide her fangs as she noted Zaharia tense and he moved toward her.

"Do not, Aleera," he warned with a whisper. It was more from self restraint than the desire to keep Mariana from hearing him, but Aleera merely cackled with glee and quickly moved to behind Mariana.

"He tore into the trespassers like dry leaves after a dry summer," Aleera whispered into Mariana's ears, gently stroking the nervous girl's hair.

Zaharia turned and growled, but Aleera's fingers wrapped around Marian's neck, fingernails cutting tan skin. He stilled, but his eyes were now metallic again, the silver glow of them making Aleera grin and Mariana close her eyes in some weak emotion Aleera would not concern herself with.

"He clawed them, ripped them, feasted on them and came back drenched in their blood," she continued, enjoying the lovers' discomfort, Zaharia's shame and Mariana's despair. "He even killed the last one in front of the villagers, he did not let that one escape even after reaching the town square. Such vicious cruelty. It almost made me desire your lover for a moment."

Mariana let out a cry of rage and sorrow and elbowed Aleera before clawing at her arm with her own nails. A sharp hiss, followed by Aleera's arm retracting from Mariana's neck was all the gypsy needed to get away, swiftly stepping away and facing Aleera, hatred in dark eyes.

Silver eyes carried loathing as they suddenly appeared directly in front of Aleera, and Zaharia picked her up by the throat. "Do not ever touch her again. Your master controls our fates, not you," he snarled, his body trembling with the desire to change and rip the forgotten bride apart.

But while Dracula might not desire Aleera, she was still his possession. And Dracula was not pleased when his possessions were stolen in any form.

Dropping her unceremoniously, Zaharia looked to Mariana with human eyes, full of regret and shame, but Mariana did not meet the gaze, staring at the ground with a blank, lost expression.

Aleera's work done despite the insults and threats and physical attacks, the bride giggled and left the room. She returned to her own chambers, her catlike grin widening when she heard the mournful howl of a wolf yearning for his mate.

Good. Let them feel the sting of loneliness for once. At least she was not alone in her misery.

---

The monster was already in London. It seemed impossible. He had not been awake longer than three days, at the most. But somehow, he had already arrived in London, and had killed one who had betrayed him.

Arthur Holmwood stared down at Renfield's body with pity and detachment. He did not have any time to waste mourning for someone who had become his only companion after Professor Van Helsing's death. He turned and continued walking towards their destination, completely alone now.

Leaving behind Renfield's corpse, now limp, drained of immortality and truly dead, Arthur turned a corner. He was deep in thought and perfectly alert. Something he had learned since his first mission against vampires.

Against the same vampire he was hunting now. The same one that had killed his only companion since the death of his mentor. The same one that had sent his bride to kill the professor. The same one that had taken his Lucy from him and turned Mina as well.

Yet, he had not destroyed who Mina was completely. Not like with Lucy. No, Dracula had completely taken Lucy, turned her into one of his devoted slaves and making her a monster lacking any remorse. She was not herself. That was the only comfort Arthur had to placate the guilt of killing his fiancé, his lovely, vibrant Lucy.

It was right, what he had done. He had spared her, given her peace, shown her the only mercy he could. She had been completely ruined by Dracula's bite, unlike Mina.

He briefly wondered if Mina would be surprised to see him. She shouldn't be. After all, with her connection to the ageless beast and his obsession for her, she of all people should know of Dracula's return. And after Lucy's death, Arthur had dedicated his life to wiping the race of vampires out. Why should she be surprised to see the protégé of Dracula's greatest enemy since the count's death at such a time as this?

Why did he care? He did not, except for that selfish part of him that still mourned Lucy. That part of him hated Mina. Despised her. Sweet, kind Mina that was Lucy's best friend and adored by most men in some way or another was dead. Now there was a vampire female, turned by Dracula. It was because of Mina he went after Lucy.

It was because of Mina, Lucy was lost to Arthur forever.

And some part of him hated Mina for it.

---

"He is so warm, Mina. So handsome and well mannered, yet he is charming and there' is a hint of something daring in him," Lucy explained. "You have no idea how happy I feel at this moment!"

Mina smiled kindly at Lucy as the younger woman sat back on her bed with a sigh and a smile. "I think I might, Lucy," Mina argued. "After all, I am engaged myself, if you will remember." Mina sat on the bed next to Lucy as the other sat up.

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry, I should remember to think before I speak," Lucy said, shaking her head at her forgetfulness. "I'm afraid I am just so tired I forget things I should remember. My mind never can seem to focus on much anymore, other than the moment," Lucy confided with a hint of worry in her voice.

Concerned for her friend, Mina wrapped an arm around her. "What is wrong, are you still sleepwalker or having those nightmares?" she asked softly.

Lucy nodded. "I keep waking p in the garden or in bed but my nightgown is wet with dew and open, exposing most of my chest and all of my neck," Lucy explained. "Just like that one night when you found me, crying out in my sleep and my nightgown was practically torn of my upper body."

Mina nodded. She remembered that night. It was the night after a horrible storm, during which Lucy and Mina had both awoken after having similar nightmares. Dreams filled with images of women and men, dancing drunkenly, but with unusually red lips or torn throats. Ghastly images.

And there had been a man, though in Lucy's dream she had seen him clearly whereas Mina had only seen the silhouette. A dark man, with dark hair and beard, in foreign and old fashioned clothing, like that of a warlord from the Dark Ages was how Lucy had described her version.

It had terrified both women to learn of the almost identical dreams they had shared unknowingly.

But the next night, Mina had laid in bed, unable to sleep. She had heard Lucy cry out as if in fear or pain sometime after the midnight hour, and had rushed to her room. She had found her friend lying in bed, deep in sleep, gasping for breath and arched up with her nightgown ripped down the middle, all the way to her navel. He hair was splayed out on both sides, away from her neck, her gown pushes away as well, nearly exposing her breasts and halfway off her arms.

Mina had immediately woken Lucy up, though it had taken a hard slap across the face to do so. But Mina had been worried Lucy would choke herself if not woken, and had not taken the time to find some water.

It had been quite frightening, and Lucy had told Mina that she had dreamt the same man had come to her, touching her in forbidden, unknown ways and then taking her neck. She had sworn she felt something prick her neck, but refused to let anyone, even Mina, examine her neck.

"Is it still with the dark male?" Mina asked hesitantly. She did not wish to upset Lucy, especially after just becoming engaged.

Lucy paled and nodded. "I feel so horrible and used, Mina. I know he is not real and is just in my dreams, but to even have dreamt of a man other than Arthur touching me, seeing me, kissing me, I feel such shame."

Mina embraced her friend comfortingly. "It is all right, Lucy. At least you do not wish for these dreams. Should Arthur find out, he will understand. It is not as though you wish to betray him and his trust."

Forcing a smile and an empty laugh, Lucy nodded. "Of course, you are right. Oh, Mina, what would I do without someone as sensible as you with me?"

---

Campion Bond checked his watch while the League members sat at the table, waiting for whoever it was they were waiting for to arrive. Everyone felt uncomfortable for some reason, as if there was a thickness to the air, an invisible and sinister entity surrounding them.

Jekyll looked, well he looked like his normal self. Fidgeting ever so slightly with a nervous and humble demeanor. Nemo looked stern, but in his eyes a hint of worry could be found if one stared hard enough. Tom looked bored, and the only thing that could be told of Skinner was that he was drinking. But like Jekyll, that was normal for him.

Mina though, looked downright disturbed. Her eyes were distant, her posture stiff and rigid, her breathing irregular. Her hair was down, strangely. She almost always kept it up, tight and perfect. But now it was down, long and straight.

Jekyll noticed she let it down when she was upset about something without being too extremely emotional. Perhaps an unconscious show of her state of mind. It was usually the only clue to how she felt. Jekyll glanced at her, then looked back down in shame at the fact that he had all but studied what she was like when her hair was in different styles.

Fortunately, nobody took notice of Jekyll's glance toward Mina. Nobody was even paying attention to anyone else at the moment, except for a few glances at Bond whenever he looked at his watch. Which he was doing again.

Abruptly there was a knock on the door, and everyone, counting Mina and excluding Nemo, jumped slightly at the sound. Campion Bond stood and walked over to the door, opening it to reveal a well dressed man, with dark hair. Clean shaven and head held high, he had a definitive aristocratic air even though the look in his eyes and the strength in his well built frame gave the impression he would do anything necessary to win in a fight.

Everyone arched an eyebrow at the newcomer, until their attention was grabbed by the soft but sudden intake off breath by Mina. The other members of the League turned to see her rise from her chair, walking over towards the newcomer.

"Arthur?"

---

"Mina, this is Arthur Holmwood, my fiancé," Lucy introduced her friend to the handsome young man who was staring at Lucy with obvious affection. "And this is Mina Murray, my dearest friend who keeps me from being too whimsical in front of others."

Arthur Holmwood turned to Mina, smiling warmly and bowing his head gracefully. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Murray," Arthur said softly. "Lucy has mentioned you before, it is good to finally meet someone she is so close to."

"It is good to meet the man she intends to marry," Mina replied with a slight bow of her own head. She returned the smile with a faint on of her own, and Lucy beamed with delight. "Lucy speaks of you constantly, although with the admiration in her voice one would think you were Adonis."

Lucy blushed slightly, but Arthur kissed her pink cheek softly before taking her hand in his. "Well, I have spoken of Lucy to my own companions, and they are convinced I am delusional and believe I am in love with an angel."

Lucy's cheek turned almost red at that comment, which amused Mina greatly. It was so unusual to see her friend act almost shy around anyone, but Lucy had been acting different for a few weeks now.

The only thing that bothered Mina was, it had not started with Arthur. But she consoled herself by remembering that Lucy's demeanor had changed in odd and unhealthy ways until her engagement. After that, her demeanor had become lively again, though a bit calmer and almost modest.

Still, Mina was troubled by the fact that whatever had caused Lucy's first change had been left undiscovered.

But now was not the time nor the place. It was obvious Lucy was happy and healthy, especially with Arthur around. Mina certainly did not want to bring the couple down or make Arthur worry over Lucy as Mina was quite positive he would if he found out Lucy had been having nightmares and trouble sleeping.

Besides, she had not mentioned them since the week of her engagement. Perhaps after their last talk of them, Lucy had finally freed herself of her dreams and sleepwalking. Hopefully Arthur's presence would keep those problems away.

---

Mina shouldn't have been so surprised to see Arthur. Well, perhaps a little surprised, but not shocked to the core. It had been a long time since she had seen him last. Since they had supposedly defeated Dracula. He had stayed with Professor Van Helsing after that, until the professor's death. And now, Dracula was awake again.

So there really was not much reason for her extreme shock.

Perhaps it merely was the confirmation that it all was really happening. Perhaps because now with not only Dracula's presence, but Arthur's, she was starting to feel like the Mina she once was, a trapped, cornered human caught in the web of an ancient and evil being.

That it proved she truly was going to have to fight him again. Fight the whispers in her mind, the stirrings in her blood, the aching in her fangs, the longing in her tainted and cold heart. Fight the very being that made her what she was now, and the very man that had caused her to burn with a disgusting lust.

But she was not so sure he would be worse than facing Arthur Holmwood.

"Hello, Mina."

This was going to be uncomfortable to say the least.

Arthur brushed past Bond and sat at the head of the table, his eyes cold and detached. He was not the nobleman Mina had known before. Years spent training under Van Helsing's tutelage and dealing with the loss of Lucy and of Quincy and even of Jack had worn on him. The battle with Dracula had changed him.

Whether it was for the better or not depended on your point of view.

Mina swallowed unnoticeably and regained her composure. But before she could say a word, one of the confused League members spoke up.

"You two know each other?" Sawyer asked, though Mina didn't even glance at him. She noticed Arthur's eyes dart in his direction briefly, and she wondered if the American brought back memories of an old friend.

Nodding, Mina finally tore her attention from Arthur to face the others, noticing a rather, focused stare from Jekyll before the quiet man looked away upon realizing he was caught. She swallowed again, suddenly plagued by a lump in her throat that refused to leave.

"This is Arthur Holmwood. He was engaged to a friend of mine that was, also turned by Dracula," Mina informed the others softly. "But she was overtaken by the bloodlust and had to be killed."

Arthur stiffened, a movement almost imperceptible. Except for immortal eyes and ears that could see the slight change and hear the soft rustle of fabric. He still hated Mina, she could see it in his eyes.

Truth was, she almost wanted him to. She understood why, she even felt it was justified, that she deserved it. After all, she had been spared the same fate as Lucy. But Lucy's fate had been because of Dracula's obsession with Mina all along.

Both of them were well aware of that fact.

"After my fiancé was killed, I vowed to put an end to Dracula's long life. If you could call it that. I was taken in by Professor Van Helsing whom, I am certain Mina has mentioned before. Or I would at least hope she would, even if just in passing," Arthur said coolly, but there was a venom in his tone that stung.

Mina bowed her head slightly, ignoring any raised eyebrow or dark glances thrown in Arthur's way as she tried to control the rising urge to give in to the soft, deceiving whispers in the back of her head. Exquisite lies she could not fully understand, empty promises of comfort Arthur's death would bring.

Mina shut it all out, she forced herself to ignore his temptations. Swallowing slowly, she closed her eyes, willing her mind to focus on what she had to do.

Finally, she spoke up once more, voice calm and steady. "I have mentioned the professor to them, Arthur. There was no way I couldn't," she said. There was no need to explain further. It was clear what she meant.

No way you could leave him out after they found out what you are. What I made you.

His voice was loud and clear that time, his presence strengthening in her mind as he spoke. But just as quickly as he hissed those unsettling words, the presence died down, almost as if he was leaving her alone for a short reprieve.

Arthur nodded, but there was no understanding in his eyes. Only contempt. Only hurt. Bitter longing for what he could never have, what was taken from him, all because of the woman sitting in front of him.

Mina knew she deserved it. The rising desire to rip out his throat and cause his eyes to lose all expression just so she could escape the burning guilt they caused her to feel proved that. She was a monster. She had just been given the control over it Lucy had been denied.

"That is good, since going back to explain who he was would take up too much time. And time is something we no longer have. Dracula grows stronger every second," Arthur said darkly. "He killed Renfield on our way here. The fog, it is his doing," Arthur explained, only looking at Mina.

The others were confused, they missed too many pieces of a grand puzzle to understand fully what was happening, but they kept silent for now.

"We somehow got separated in it. And when I found Renfield, he was dead. Run through, impaled. On his own sword," Arthur told her, told them. His voice was not so cold now. There was almost a touch of, sadness in it.

Loss.

Mina remembered Renfield. He had tried to help her escape Dracula, tried to save her from being turned. He had been driven insane by Dracula's control and manipulation, but he had been fighting for redemption.

And he had joined Arthur and Van Helsing after Dracula's defeat, regaining his sanity if not his humanity.

Mina was almost surprised Arthur could feel loss for a vampire. Even if it was Renfield. But then, Renfield had not had anything to do with what had happened to Lucy. There was no reason for Arthur to hate Renfield, only hate what he was.

"But Renfield did inform me of everything he knew before his connection with Dracula was severed when the count awoke somehow," Arthur went on, voice once again distant. "He wants what was taken from him last time."

"Me," Mina stated, staring at the table, her own voice distant as well as her eyes. "He wants me. He wants to own me."

---

Aleera stood on her balcony for a long time, staring hatefully at the distant lights of the village. Oh, how she wanted to go and ravage that place, tear into as many necks as she could find. Sate her hunger, and her heal her pride.

But Dracula had given strict orders. Feed only when needed, and as little as possible. And Zaharia was given orders to make sure that rule was obeyed. Last thing Aleera wanted was the Hellhound after her and Dracula's wrath to come down on her upon his return.

Yet, she needed to do something. She, ached in a way she had thought she never would be able to again. She thought Dracula had taken her heart along with her soul. But she had been wrong. It was there, just, frozen.

Though no completely immune to love or to rejection and scorn.

"I thought I would find you here," came a male voice from behind. She had caught the dog's scent long before he had spoken, but she had hoped he would be smart enough to leave her alone right now.

Although, considering he was probably fuming more than she was because of her attempt to placate herself by torment the werewolf and his lover, he probably would not use wisdom even if he had any. Too bad her fun had died the moment she had left.

"Leave, watchdog," Aleera hissed.

Zaharia walked up next to Aleera, grinning bitterly, sharp canines exposed. "I am afraid I do not want to. As to what I was saying, I knew you would be here. Because you come here, stare at the mortals you love to prey upon so much, and sulk when your pride has been wounded."

There was a brief flash of red in Aleera's eyes. But what she hated more than Zaharia's words was that it was known she was sulking.

"How does it feel, Aleera?" Zaharia asked, moving closer. "To know that once he is back, you will be pushed aside and someone else will take the place of you, and your fallen sisters. That he will never even want to look at you again."

Aleera knew she was not to do anything to Zaharia or Mariana. Not turn the girl, not kill the wolf. Not to even hurt him. He was a part of Dracula's plan. But she didn't care. With a snarl, she backhanded Zaharia, sending him back against the wall hard, but he hardly flinched, to busy sneering at her with satisfaction.

"Looks like I hit a nerve. I thought vampires were above such foolish, human feelings," Zaharia spat.

Striding past him, Aleera didn't give him more satisfaction by replying, trying to save the last bit of her pride left.


	5. Pitiful Monsters

Author's note: Well, I finally got this updating again. The next chapter will be a while most likely, because it is all Mina's story. Plus, my grandfather is dying of lung cancer, and next week I shall be visiting him, so I probably won't get a chance to write at all until the weekend. So that will also delay the chapter. But, after that chapter, things should really get moving. Thanks for all the reviews, and please, keep reviewing. That really help. Also, the history with mina/Dracula, etc, is a mixture of LXG, the novel Dracula, and the movie with Gary Oldman, in case you're wondering.

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except those not in the movie/graphic novels LXG or the novel/Francis Ford Coppola Dracula. Please do not sue me. I mean no copyright infringement. Savvy?

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR: PITIFUL MONSTERS

"Stop holding your arms up in defense, parry, block with the sword, Renfield," Dracula instructed firmly, but not quite unkindly. "You must fight back against me now, so that you may learn to defend yourself against skilled hunters, other vampires who would see that they reigned supreme over our family," he continued.

Renfield nodded obediently, though it was very hard for him to even think of lifting the rapier Dracula had given him against his master. Still, he once again got into position, following his master's example. He felt a small swell of pride when the count nodded in approval, but it was fleeting as his master was soon slashing at him once more.

Though he feared he would end up striking his master by accident, he feared not following the instructions to fight back would bring about the greater anger.

The count was quick, though it was obvious he was holding back on Renfield, going a slight bit slower than he would have with a more learned adversary. But he was not going easy on Renfield, he attacked fast and swift, and Renfield just barely blocked the slashes, somewhat sloppily he felt.

"Better, Renfield, but remember, you must have control, the sword is not more powerful than you," Dracula reminded the younger vampire even as they sparred. "It is nothing without a hand holding it."

Renfield would have nodded if he weren't blocking his master's attack. He forced his mind to quickly recall all the previous lessons Dracula had given him, all the instructions. Soon his blocks and parries were not as sloppy and almost precise.

Abruptly, Dracula stood straight, sword upright. "Very good, Renfield," he said, though his voice held no real trace of any sort of emotion. "I might make a fighter out of you yet."

* * *

Arthur was leading the League to the spot where Renfield had been killed. Mina was closest to Arthur, though she would have preferred not to be. She was uncomfortable near him, he brought back too many memories of the life she once had. Along with the guilt of causing others to loose the ones they used to have as well.

Mina was pulled out of her thoughts and familiar, unwanted feelings when her eyes landed on the body of Renfield.

He looked peaceful, which was some comfort to Mina. He had always been so kind to her when she was near him. Shy and full of shame.

She almost unconsciously walked over to him and kneeled beside his body. His heart had been run through. Impaled by their sire.

"He was killed with his own sword," Arthur stated, voice neutral. "And the monster took it with him. He has probably already fed on a few victims, we should see if anyone has seen anything," he explained. "Though that is highly unlikely, is it not, Mina?"

Arthur's voice had been scornful, and the others had picked up on it. At least, Sawyer had.

"You shouldn't talk that way to a lady," the American spoke up on her behalf. "This isn't her fault."

Mina rose and turned back to the others, unable to look at Renfield anymore, even though she was loathe to look at the others. She kept her eyes calm and swallowed before speaking, making certain she could speak without her voice betraying her.

"Sadly, Arthur is correct that it is highly unlikely we would find any solid clue that would help us in finding Dracula," she said clearly, though it was difficult for her to utter that name, as always. "Still, we must give it a try, as at the moment, I have no idea where he is."

I'm right here, Mina.

Tom nodded, as did the other members of the League, though Jekyll was glancing at Arthur every so often with what looked to be anger.

He was angered by the noble's hurtful words and tone just as much or more than the boy. He just cannot speak it. So much like your late husband, is that not right, lovely Mina?

Struggling to ignore the voice haunting her, Mina walked past the others. "We should return to Bond, explain what we must do. There I will inform you all of what Dracula is capable of. And what he most likely will do, to the best of my knowledge," she said as she walked briskly.

"He'll be after those you hold close," Arthur replied. "He will strike at those closest to you, those you care about the most. Not at first, but eh will. First he'll kill off a few innocents, and few not so innocents," Arthur said as he neared her. "And then he will contact you. And then it will begin. Like a game of chess, where everyone is whatever pawn he wants them to be. By the time it's over, he will take the queen."

Mina stopped abruptly and looked over at Arthur as he stopped his long stride as well. The others stopped, and Nemo walked forward, expression unreadable, hardly a surprise.

"Perhaps that is indeed what this Dracula is planning, and perhaps that is how he went about his attacks the first time. But things are a lot different now, and Madam Mina has us behind her. We will see to it this evil is defeated for good," the captain avowed to Arthur.

Mina could not help but smile softly at Nemo's backing and confident manner. She could use some of that confidence now. Because while she did have the League, and Dracula had not encountered them before, they did not know Dracula and his power.

She and Arthur had. And Arthur was indeed right.

Dracula would strike at the League members. After he had sated his bloodlust on inconsequential mortals.

Oh, I will never sate that hunger. You of all people should understand that

* * *

He watched as the group walked back to their headquarters. His eyes were focused in her, leading them back, head held a little lower than usual. Her once proud carriage had become more submissive and concerned. The others probably did not even notice, but he did.

Everything about her, he noticed. Even the most imperceptible thing, he could pick up. Mina herself knew that. They both knew that it was not just because of his heightened abilities as well.

It was so much more.

"Go back, Mina. Go back to where you feel safest, and watch as all your walls are torn down and shattered," he whispered as he watched her lead the others away from him and Renfield's corpse. The corpse would be taken care of and any information on the death would be erased. But Dracula would leave, and would leave more corpses to be erased.

As he walked off, cane tapping against the rooftop he was striding across, he felt rain begin to fall, the soft gray clouds being run off by black clouds, promising storms.

Dracula wondered if Mina would feel the cruel chill in the wind that told who controlled the storm that was soon to be raging.

* * *

_"Watch as the lightening dances across the clouds, Mina," he whispered into her ear, reveling in the feel of how a slight tremor went through her body from his voice and the feel of him so near. "Watch the clouds while they move away from the moon after a moment, exposing it briefly."_

Mina glanced back at him, starting slightly at his proximity. "How do you know what the storm will do?" she asked softly after regaining most of her composure.

He leaned in closer, his mouth almost touching hers as he spoke. "Because when you have seen as many storms as I have, you learn how to predict them," he explained. Lifting one hand to gently caress her cheek, Dracula smiled at her.

How odd that it was a genuine smile. How long had it been since one of those had been formed by his lips? Centuries, he was certain.

Strange how this woman, hardly the most beautiful or the most lively or the most vibrant woman he had met, could make him truly happy for a few brief moments.

Yet his only hope of keeping the happiness he had actually achieved in this moment was to lie. He could not risk losing this quiet, reserved, yet independent and strong woman that somehow intrigued him more than any mystery the universe could offer.

And if she found out who, what , he was so soon, he would lose her.

"You must watch storms every time there is one around your native land," Mina finally replied, returning his smile with a lovely, innocent one of her own.

Dracula's smile turned into a grin. "My dear Mina, we have storms almost every day in my native land," he told her, carefully leaving out the fact that he was the cause of them. "So, while I do not watch them every time, I do watch them very often. You would be surprised how much one can discover in a lifetime. If they would just take the time to look."

He took a step closer to Mina, making her unconsciously step back to that they avoided contact. He could hear her heartbeat skip and then speed up slightly, and her chest moved quicker than it should have in the presence of someone other than her fiancé.

It thrilled Dracula, his predator instincts joining with his lust that burned him more than the fiercest thirst he had ever suffered. He desired this woman, yet he did not allow himself to take control of her, take her, make her his own, only to be rejected when he let the control drop.

This one, he wanted of her own free will.

And he would have her. He would have her somehow.

The storm became calmer as he took her hand in his, leading her away from the balcony. "We should keep you away from the rain. We would not want you to catch a cold."

* * *

Zaharia hesitantly entered Mariana's chambers, his head slightly bowed. He did not knock on the half open door, nor did he make any sound to announce his approach. He merely stepped into the room and kept silent. He stopped as soon as he was in, not saying a word, only looking at her.

The starlight sparkled gently on her tan skin, moonlight reflecting silver in her hit blacker than the sky it was shining in. Her dress, paled colors unlike her usual gypsy skirts and loose blouse. It was calm and fitted, a deep midnight blue mixing with the color of polished sword, clinging like a sheath to her curves.

She was beautiful, but her features no longer held the gypsy spark they had once possessed, like the other gypsy women, but even more fiery. Now her beauty was tragic, all lovely sorrow and bittersweet hope.

Because of Dracula.

Zaharia nearly growled, but his regret and shame was far more powerful now than any rage his body had the capability to hold. He was afraid to go near her, and dying to stay so far away.

"I forgive you," she whispered inaudibly for any mortal ear, but he was, sadly, no mortal. She turned to look over her shoulder from her place near the open balcony to meet his eyes finally. "I know that is what you."

"No," he replied in a hushed whisper barely any louder than hers. He had bowed his head more, his eyes downcast with the look of child afraid his parents would not love him anymore. "It actually is not. I want for you to look at me without seeing the monster in me. To know that you do not see blood staining my hands, soaking my hair. To look in your eyes and not see the fear of my victims in them. That," he said as he glanced up with his eyes and not his head, "is what I want."

Mariana slowly walked toward him, stopping directly in front of him, looking up at his face. Her eyes were filled with longing, longing for everything to be as it was before they had been trapped by invisible chains in Castle Dracula.

"It kills me to know what you did to those people. What kills me more is that you know you did it, and that you cannot escape your duty, nor the lingering guilt," she told him, her voice filled with tears that made her eyes sparkle in the dim candlelight.

Zaharia cupped his love's face, leaning his forehead against hers. He closed his own glistening eyes. "I will see us live and be free once more, Mariana. I promise you, I will see it happen. I will reclaim your happiness and mine."

She moved her face up and at a backwards angle, her lips brushing against his lightly, then were pressed tightly to his when he pulled her head closer, desperate to lose himself in her. She moaned so softly as his tongue brushed against hers and he felt something in him try to break free, try to ravage her like an animal.

"I cannot do this," Zaharia said as he forced himself to let her go and step away. His eyes were full of resigned pain, rabid fear, and wolf's leer.

Mariana stepped toward him stubbornly and took hold of his hands on hers, leading him back over to the bed. She moved until the back of her legs hit the edge of it, and then she dropped his hands, reaching up and pushing the shoulders of the dress off those of her body.

"I trust you," she told him softly as the dress fell to her feet with the most beautiful whisper he had heard. She stepped out of the pool of cloth at her feet and got on the bed, and he watched with worried awe. "I trust you."

Zaharia moved over to her as she kneeled on the bed, kissed her even fiercer than before, pleading lips and tongue begging for forgiveness, while her cool fingertips removed his clothing to expose skin covered in unseen blood. He pulled her flush against him and she held him to her. Washing him clean.

* * *

"We need should go to the Nautilus and see if there's anything of use there," Mina stated as she, Arthur, and the League sat once more at the familiar table and discussed their options. Normally she would have let another of the League take the lead, but she knew she had to.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. "I doubt a ship would have the necessary tools for vampire hunting. Especially for this vampire."

Mina nodded. "I know it does seem unlikely, but we also need to make sure everyone s properly equipped with not only weapons but knowledge. And, I would prefer telling them there," she said, and when she looked over at Arthur, there was the slightest plea in her eyes.

She saw the desire to force her to expose her ugliest sins, but he mercifully let it pass and nodded.

"Very well, you and your friends can take me with you. I have all my travel belongings with me, so I will stick with the group. It is safest that way," he said, and the others nodded after seeing Mina do so.

"Then we should be heading back," she stated and got up. She walked out of the room, ignoring Bond and not pausing to make sure the others were with her until she was at the steps in front of the museum building.

Nemo was closest, and she saw the faintest hint of concern in them, but she forced a half smile before looking to see if the others had caught up as well. Arthur had, and then the others were there, and they were all heading back to the Nautilus.

With a voice that spoke of love yet was dripping with hate still residing in Mina's mind.

* * *

He watched as the sun set over London, the city streets lit up by the tall lamps that provided no shelter, no safety, no warmth. He stood on the roof of the museum, watching until his lovely Mina and her precious company had finally disappeared from his sight.

Soon she would have to tell all of them the whole story. Bare her soul, and speak of him in detail. And he would hear her thoughts through the whole thing, reveling in what she left out, too ashamed to admit.

He was delighted she was already so bothered. She needed a rock, and all she had was him.

But it had not reached that point yet. And he felt puckish.

Soon a flock of bats was flying far from the museum and toward the seedier sections of the city, all landing down, legs reforming, then torso, then shoulders, and then head, human and one body once more. He walked down an alley, toward a man raping one of the dirty whores of the street and grinned a devil's grin.

"That is hardly the proper way to treat a lady," he said loudly to get the ruffian's attention. His fangs were exposed as his grin widened at the sight of the startled man quickly removing himself from the crying woman on the ground. He began to softly laugh as the disgusting mortal tried to get his pants back in place and covering all they were meant to cover.

"You don't look like no constable!" he cried with embarrassed anger. "She was exposing the goods, she's no lady!"

Before the man could blink or draw breath to shout anymore, Dracula was there, fangs deep in his vein, blood flowing from the rapist to the vampire, while the harlot tried to cover herself vainly, her cries unheard by the feeding male.

And soon he was down, all blood drained and filling him. He closed his eyes and turned his head up at the sigh, letting out a sigh at the coppery liquid rushing down his throat still. His bloody canines were exposed in the moonlight, and the sight made the woman scream yet again.

She got up and turned away from Dracula, but he was in front of her when she did, his teeth bared and his eyes filled with the same color as the liquid dripping down from the corners of his mouth.

"I am afraid, I cannot let you leave here alive," he told her, reaching out to brush back her hair. "But do not fear. The kiss death will give you it sweet and swift. You have gone through enough agony tonight," he told her with a comforting and gentle voice.

Her eyes went blank, her body limp, and she was in his arms. And he proved his word true, removing the pain from his bite and the ache from his thirst quenching. He gently laid her body down and covered her damaged body before walking off, his cane tapping on the rain soaked streets.

"I wonder how Carfax Abbey is doing," Dracula pondered aloud between licking his teeth and lips clean of crimson. He took a turn that would lead him back to his brief home in England, decided to relive memories that were not yet old enough to be called old.

* * *

Once they reached the Nautilus, it would be the day Mina had hoped to avoid until she somehow finally died one way or another. She would have to tell them so many things she had wanted to forget and pretend had never happened.

Even though she herself was a walking reminder.

Mina let out an almost inaudible sigh, swallowing down her pride and vain hope. She had to accept that this was just how the things were. That life was not perfect, nor what you wanted, and mistakes would be exposed more often than not.

"I think I might know what you're going through," came a soft, almost timid voice from her left side, slightly behind.

Mina paused, turning slightly to face Dr. Jekyll who had approached her. She almost blinked in confusion, wondering if she had said any of her mingled thoughts aloud, but then realized he probably could simply understand without hearing her say what was wrong. Both of them had pasts they would never like to think about, let alone speak of.

"Hyde has done things, atrocities I would not wish any soul in the world to know of," he continued, as they picked up their stride again. "I know it is not quite the same for you, but, from what you and Mr. Holmwood have said, this Count takes delight in hurting those you care for or causing pain to innocents simply to get to you. And Hyde, he always enjoyed doing such to me," Jekyll said, his voice lowering with shame.

Mina nodded, looking ahead. She could not truly understand how awful it must be to have your tormentor be you, to do things through your body, but she could begin to understand the shame of knowing that the only reason certain people were killed was merely because you cared for them.

"I had once felt pity for Dracula," she admitted. "When we thought we had killed him. He seemed to look almost peaceful. As if he was no longer the beast that had destroyed my life and the lives of those around me," she confided to the doctor.

"Yet, now that he has returned, and I have seen Arthur yet again, I feel almost shameful for ever feeling such compassion for him. But, we at least have a chance of ridding the world of his evil. I do not know how I would ever be able to go on if he was constantly a part of me, constantly in some state of existing, she added, glancing at Jekyll. "So, I admire your strength for living with Hyde. I do not think I could live like that."

Jekyll, looked at her sharply, surprised by her words, and then a faint blush could be seen on his cheeks. "I, tried very often to rid myself of this existence," he admitted himself. "But I fear that the reason I did not, is because I am a coward who does not wish to pay for the sins I allowed Hyde to commit."

Mina glanced at him, and she felt compassion for the doctor. "None of us wish to face damnation," she told him kindly. "Vampires are not often welcomed into heaven's gates either."

* * *

_"You're a monster," she gasped, her eyes wide with fear and shock, a slender, elegant hand lifting up to cover her mouth. "You're the monster that killed Lucy, made her that creature Arthur and Van Helsing had to kill!"_

Accusations. Accusing, accusing, always accusing. They never stopped to think, never stopped to consider, did they?

Not even she. Lovely, elegant, precious Mina, proper lady with an untamed heart and will, even she could not get past the word "monster", even after all the time spent with him, even after their passion tried to make them lose their minds together.

"Mina, please," he begged her. He begged_. Count Dracula, first of the vampires, the strongest, the most powerful, the wisest of the vampire race was begging for a mortal woman's acceptance, understanding. "I am sorry about your friend Lucy. I, I did not plan to turn her, not like that. But then I found you, and I lost you," he tried to explain, but she shook her head._

She would have none of it. She would believe the muddled truth and half lies the professor had told her and the others. The pretty, white lies. She would believe lies over love. Immortal love, she would turn it away for beautiful, safe lies.

She tried to run for the door, but he grabbed her, roughly. She screamed, in pain, in fear, in heartache, in despair. She struggled against him, and he let her go, a cold, dark heart screaming that same cry as she ran to the door, beating on it.

"Let me go! Please, let me go!" she pleaded, beating on the door. He saw her eyes shining with tears, clear, watery tears he could not shed, and his vision turned red and blurry.

He walked over, opening the door, letting her free. She ran, ran from him, never looking back. Never seeing the red fall from his eyes.


	6. Reverie of the Past

Author's note: Well, here is chapter five. Took me a while to get my muse to focus, and she kept taking breaks on me, but I've finally gotten it out. Now, it has variations from the Bram Stoker novel, as well as some obvious inspiration from the movie with Gary Oldman and a bit from Van Helsing, and some things are not specifically described or shown, but there will still be a few flashbacks in the next few chapters. Anyway, hope you enjoy and please review.

Disclaimer: I do not own, please do not sue. Savvy?

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE: REVERIE OF THE PAST

They were inside the Nautilus. They were in the stateroom. They were all sitting at a table. They were all looking to Mina.

Mina wanted to run from the room, part of her longing to just give in to him and let him take it all away, erase the feelings she had for these people, the pain it caused her, the memories it brought to her mind. Part of her just wanted to flee to some unknown corner of the earth where not even he could find her.

She swallowed and started to speak instead.

"You all know that I am vampire now, turned by a vampire named Dracula. You know that I was married once to a man named Jonathan Harker and have kept his name as my own. You know that we were helped by Professor Van Helsing. But what you do not know, is why and how," she began, her eyes staying focused on the table, every so often flickering up to Arthur.

He may still blame her, rightfully so in her mind, he may still hate her, again rightfully so, but he was the only other one in the room that knew the extent of the damage those dark days caused. He was the only other one alive to tell the tale, and she looked to him to force herself to keep going.

"The why, I myself still do not full understand, but I know most of it. The how, that is much easier to explain. Chance, Fate, Serendipity, Destiny, whatever you wish to call it, tangled us all up in that mess," she continued. "But it began when my husband's predecessor, Mr. Renfield, was driven insane before he could close a real estate deal with a foreign count. My husband was sent to finalize the transaction. That count was Count Dracula."

Mina paused, closing her eyes as she remembered all the time she woke up in the night to her husband's cries of fright and pleas for grace in his sleep, haunted with nightmares. She remembered him begging for her sire's three whore not to touch him, to stop corrupting his soul.

"When he went though, the count was already planning on keeping him there, and coming to London to wreak his havoc and shadow the land with his kind. And to keep Jonathan there, his three brides took my husband, fiancé at that time, as their plaything."

* * *

_The Englishman walked into the room, listening to the soft voices on the wind, calling his name. The windows were open and moonlight illuminated the room, white and red sheer curtains blowing everywhere. There were lavish sofas and round beds, satiny sheets and plush pillows covering them._

It looked like some foreign, exotic brothel, only empty of inhabitant, the whore that profited and the men that gained their gratification through depraved methods.

Jonathan Harker looked around, confused and unnerved. Not a soul could be seen in the room, but he was certain he had heard someone calling his name. A feminine, soft voice, gentle and tempting. Reminding him of Mina, dear Mina, waiting and wondering back in England.

As he walked a little farther into the room, he was unaware of the three pairs of hungry eyes watching him. The brides licked their lips, their ears humming with the beautiful song of blood coursing through the man's body.

But Verona would not let them strike yet. She wanted to watch, wanted to study him. A human man, pure of heart and innocent soul. Her eyes grew as curious as hungry, for there was something in her, some forgotten, dormant part of her, crying out for mercy for the man. As if it had been asleep, but the human's unsoiled being had awoken it. And now it was pleading on his behalf, even as he stood down on the ground, unaware.

Verona did not listen though, for that part of her always brought back flashes of memories that she did not want to remember. Her master did not want her to remember.

Though the brides would be going against their master should they go for the man. The other two did not know this, but Verona did. She had not been told, but she was oldest and knew her master better than he did himself in some ways.

He did not want them to turn the young man, nor did he want them to feed on him yet. He was planning something, something important and vast.

Verona did not care though. Her master was forgetting her, forgetting Marishka, and even Aleera, who still pined for his love and affection to the point of insanity and obsession, to the point that the other brides wondered if Dracula kept her constantly in the strongest throes of his thrall.

So she and her sisters would strike sooner than he wished.

Finally, she looked to the other brides and nodded, and they dropped to the ground, gracefully and silently, behind the man.

Verona's eyes burned crimson, and she smiled a wicked smile, exposing her perfect fangs. Her master could go after what he wanted, but she and her sisters would not starve while he forgot about them.

* * *

Most of the tale had been told, and Arthur had mercifully controlled his resentment and kept his tongue silent. Mina was grateful beyond words, but she showed no sign of it. They both knew she was leaving many details out, except those that were vital, but only she knew the full extent of what was left unspoken.

She glanced at him briefly, and then her eyes went back to the table. She had not made any eye contact with any of the League, not even for a second. She couldn't, not yet.

"Once Dracula had me under his thrall, his blood flowing through my veins, he fled to his homeland of Transylvania," she continued. "I told them of his plans and in turn he learned of all their strategies and desperate tactics."

Her words had been pain filled even as she spoke like a machine, a nameless, soulless recording narrating a story without inflection. It was horrid, bringing up everything so vividly, forcing herself to stare at those memories in the face. She knew it was necessary, she knew it was needed.

But his voice was growing more and more tempting, more and more comforting as it whispered beautiful lies of peace and blissful ignorance of her past. Still, she would not give in.

As she opened her mouth to start anew, Arthur cleared his throat, and Mina looked up at him. He met her eyes and she saw pity in his, and knew that though she was not fully forgiven, he would help to ease her pain as best he could. She knew it was because of Lucy, because of his own pain, because he could understand to some degree.

She was grateful beyond words, and nodded. She sat back in her seat, and let him take over for her.

"We knew it would be tricky, but we would split up, Van Helsing and Mina going straight on to Castle Dracula, while the rest of us tried to beat him, or at least catch up with him and stop him before he could reach his sanctuary. In the end, that battle we thought was the final one was fought on the castle grounds."

* * *

Arthur saw Lucy with ever kill. He saw her, covered in blood, some not even her own, as she lie in her coffin. He saw her as she lie sick in bed. He saw her as she danced with him, beautiful and giddy, vibrant life in his arms. He saw her, and showed no mercy.

Because in this day, they could not show mercy. This day, they had to be God's vengeance.

He had killed three gypsies already, more men than he had ever expected to kill, but then again, he had not expected to kill one man. Nor had he expected to lose his love before they could even wed, only to have to kill the monster she became in her death, giving her peace through violence.

Count Dracula had ruined their plans, their happiness. Everyone, he had destroyed in some small measure to some incredible degree.

Arthur Holmwood killed and killed, Lucy's screams still ringing in his ears.

* * *

_Her mind was a storm, her thoughts a whirlwind. She could not remember who she was, who she had once been, who she wanted to be. She could not decide who she loved, who she hated. It was all a tangled mess, his will and hers at war inside her head._

"Mina! Mina, you must fight him!" she could hear the professor shouting to her, shaking her as her eyes stayed locked on the gypsy carriage. "Mina, he will kill us all and drag you into Hell with him, you must not give in!"

Those words registered in Mina's mind, but before she could say anything, could fight through the haze to form words, sentences, she was pulled from the professor's grip.

Dracula stood in front of her, towering and dark, seeming to snuff out all of the sun's remaining light as he stood between her and Van Helsing. He had burst from his prison and protective at last, no longer weak to the sun's rays or to these men and their mortal weapons.

"I am already in Hell, Van Helsing," he said, voice as threatening as the storms he could command. "It is the cold void of existence that I live. No light, no warmth. Except her. And you would take her from me," he said as he stepped toward the professor. His voice was now a soft hiss, serpentine yet alluring to Mina's senses all the same.

But the professor would not relent. "You want to destroy what light and warmth she has, brings to you!" Van Helsing shouted, holding up his beloved and sacred crucifix. "You would snuff out her soul and lose the very thing you supposedly love."

Dracula snarled and struck Van Helsing, sending him backwards into the ground with violent force. He walked over to him while Mina simply watched, completely empty of feeling as her mind ran in circles trying to decide what she was to feel.

All the others were fighting, gypsies against Englishmen. A cry of agony reached her ears, the voice almost unrecognizable in the cry, but it was familiar all the same, and Mina turned to see Quincey Morris fall to the ground, a horrid wound in his back.

But his bowie knife found its target, and his gypsy murderer went down with the Texan, his throat sliced open and bleeding crimson onto the snow.

"Forgive me," she whispered, meeting his eyes briefly before she ran into the castle, searching. She knew a way, she knew a way to save them all.

At last she found what she needed. A long broadsword with Latin inscriptions on the blade, speaking of truth, God, nobility, trust, faith, Heaven, justice. It had been Vlad Tepes', and now it would be Dracula's, in a far different way.

Mina would never have been able to even move it, much less carry it out to the battleground, if not for her master's strength, flowing in her veins. But he had given her that gift, that curse, and she would use it for good. She had to.

For Lucy. For Quincey. For Jonathan. For Prof. Van Helsing. For Arthur. For Dr. Seward. For herself.

For Dracula.

* * *

"That's all it takes? A sword through the heart?" Sawyer asked as this Arthur finished telling them what had happened with Dracula the first time he had gone after Mina. It seemed just a little too simply a defeat for someone Mina and Arthur both feared so greatly.

"No. It was his sword, with inscriptions that were supposed to keep him from being able to come back," Mina corrected, her tone firm. "They were sacred, holy. And yet, he has somehow managed to destroy their effect. Which means he is stronger and more powerful than we thought."

Tom nodded, and once again wished he didn't have such an eager mouth. He should have known, since Dracula was back, that a sword through the heart was not all it took.

"I had feared he was somehow finding a way to escape their power over him," Arthur added. "Aleera hinted at it when she killed the professor."

The American heard a hint of pain and sorrow in the man's voice, but his curiosity was winning out over tact. He had a feeling this Aleera was the last remaining bride Mina had mentioned. But he wanted to know for certain.

"Aleera?" he asked cautiously. _You're too curious for your own good, Sawyer._

Arthur looked over at him, eyes dark and angry. "Dracula's last whore. He sent her there to kill Van Helsing, she told me that much before receiving a silver crucifix against her neck. After that, she left. I have not seen her since, but I am certain she is watching over Dracula's homeland while her master is away."

Tom nodded and looked down. He felt guilty for bringing up the subject. After all, he wouldn't have liked talking about M all that much if someone asked him. Not after losing two people he loved dearly to that bastard.

"We should rest," Mina said after a moment, her voice breaking into Tom's thoughts. "This has been a trying day, and we must be at our best when we go after Dracula. I do not know how strong he is, but if he is at all stronger than before, and he obviously must be, we do not have much time."

Tom nodded and looked up at Mina. "She's right. Everyone, go get as much sleep as possible, rest, do whatever you need to prepare for this mission."

He glanced at Arthur apologetically, but the English nobleman was already out of his chair and leaving. He sighed and mentally kicked himself while trying to avoid his own memories of dying friends. But painful memories seemed to come back to him with every movement he made as he started to leave the room.

A hand was suddenly placed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Mina standing next to him.

"He was not angry with you," she assured him softly, her own haunting past seen in her eyes. "He is angry at Dracula and Aleera. And himself. Perhaps not so unlike you," she added, then pulled her hand away as she walked out of the room.

The American watched her go, musing over her words. He had no idea how she pulled off living with her own pain and comforting everyone else's that they tried so hard to hide, but he needed to find out someday.

* * *

A sound reached Arthur's ears as he lie in the bed of his inn room. He and the professor had not yet left Budapest, Hungary after the slaying of the vampire known as Bathory, the Blood Countess. They had just made their kill the previous afternoon, and the professor had needed to rest a night before they left for their next destination.

But as Arthur heard a sound, familiar and yet not, he froze. He recognized the sound, a cackle, gleeful and wicked. He did not recognize who it belonged to, but it was not good, all the same.

Forcing his body to move, Arthur got off his bed, grabbing his bowie knife and rushed out of his room, heading for the sound. It was outside, where the professor had been last time he had seen him, the aging man wanting some fresh air before bed.

There was another cackle, and then a cry of pain, and Arthur recognized the voice that made the horrifying sound.

Professor Van Helsing.

"Keep everyone inside!" Arthur shouted to the innkeeper before bursting out of the inn only to be greeted by a gory sight that made his flesh crawl, his stomach clench, and his blood boil with fury and despair.

There was the professor, his mentor and guide in his new profession, his new life, lying limp in the hands of a vampire wench, her hair blond with a touch of red, red eyes that turned a haunting and catlike green. Her lips were crimson and blood dripped down from the corners of her mouth, while the professor's neck was a torn and shredded mess.

"NO!!" Arthur shouted in anger even as his eyes grew blurry with tears. In his blind rage, he threw the bowie knife at the vampire, but she easily caught it as she tossed the professor to the ground roughly.

"Do you think you can kill me, a bride of Dracula, while doing my master's bidding and feeding on the life liquid of his enemy?" she asked tauntingly, her tone mocking and condescending, and she cackled again.

"Dracula is dead!" Arthur spat back, glaring daggers at her, looking for an opening. But she held his bowie knife, and he had no other weapon on him.

The bride cackled louder. "My master can never die, not until he wishes to. And he never will!" she replied before dropping the knife and bursting into a flock of bats, the hideous creatures flying away from the city swiftly. Her cackling still rang in the air though, sending chills down Arthur's spine.

Kneeling by the professor, Arthur gently cradled the old man, trying to see if any life had been left in his mentor's body. But the professor was limp and heavy, no breathing, no beating, his bleeding beginning to stop as his body registered the cease of existence.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Arthur whispered. "I am so sorry."

Arthur reached over to the discarded bowie knife and raised it high as he sat Van Helsing's corpse back on the ground. Closing his eyes, he brought the bowie knife down swiftly.

* * *

Love was something Aleera could not fully understand. While she believed she loved her master, it was not like the love she saw. It was selfish and possessive, it was unrequited, it was unnatural, it was her tie to him, him that did not love her for he could not love.

She could not grasp the love between the two in the room, bodies intermingled, hands roaming, voices raised in blissful cries. They were truthfully making love, and even though Aleera was seeing it, she could not grasp it.

Even before Zaharia had become the wolf he know was, he had loved Mariana with every breath, every heartbeat, every fiber of his being. They had always been bound, but the wolf had made it nature's tie, like Aleera's to her master, yet, different.

The youngest and last remaining bride, watching from their balcony, perched carefully at an edge where they could not see her, if they were ever able to open their eyes and take their gaze off each other. She had heard and smelt them, had known what they were doing, and had been curious. For she did not know what love was, did not comprehend what it was.

Yet, she wanted to, even though she was a being that could not love in the same sense and therefore could never understand it. The only love she would ever know was the empty yearning for a master that did not want her.

She hated the two lovers before her. She hated their love, hated their ability to feel it. They should be just as cursed as she was.

Dawn was nearing, and they were slowing. Aleera had to leave now.

But she wanted to see them sleep in each other's arms, wanted to see them bathe in the afterglow hat burned her more than any sun ever could. She wanted to know what it felt like.

She never would.

* * *

Campion Bond walked out of the museum, holding his large umbrella over his head as he went down the stairs toward his carriage. He was to meet with Mycroft Holmes tonight, and give him a briefing over what had been happening, the new mission that had been forced upon the League.

But as he reached the carriage, he noticed that the driver was in an odd position, head back, slouching, hands lying limply at his sides. As Bond looked closer, he saw raindrops mix with blood seeping from the man's neck, and he panicked, turning to run back into the museum.

A dark man in refined clothing stood in front of him though, blocking his path. He had long, dark hair, made darker by the rain soaking it through, and a fairly thick beard. The dark hair and clothing contrasted sharply with his pale skin. His gray eyes stared at Bond and were much more frightening than any stormy sky he had ever looked at, even though his lips were forming a smile.

Bond took a step back, intimidated even though the man was no taller than he was, and did not look very strong. But he was imposing and frightening, cold and cruel as Death itself, with his calm posture and hands clasped behind his back as if engaging in a meeting with an acquaintance.

"Campion Bond, I presume?" came the man's voice, smooth as a spider's web and just as dangerous, seeming to spin around Bond and trap him there in his spot. "Forgive my rude interruption, I see you have places to go, but I had to speak with you," he continued, and Bond detected a hint of an accent.

European, but he could not place it.

But he had a very good idea of where the man came from nonetheless. And who he was.

"You see, you just recently saw someone whom I desperately wish to get back in touch with, a Wilhelmina Murray," he went on, taking a step down, coming closer to Bond who could not move from his spot. "I was wondering, how did she take the news of my return?"

"Badly," Bond whispered, voice hoarse with fear. He did not know why he had answered, but perhaps it was the threatening stare that the man held him in. "She was visibly shaken."

The man smirked wickedly, exposing bloodied fangs as his eyes began to glow a matching color. "Good," he stated before lunging, sinking his fangs into Bond's neck and drinking viciously, not sparing the disgusting, gluttonous looking man any pain of the feeding.

Bond's limbs flailed, but Dracula was able to hold him still with graceful ease as his fangs tore at Bond's neck, his tongue licking up blood as it poured and then sinking his fangs back into to suck more out. He devoured the crimson liquid as the man began to go limp, and he pulled away, fangs tearing flesh out. He dropped the body unceremoniously and looked to the sky.

Dawn would come soon, within two hours if not sooner. The bodies would be discovered then, just as he wanted.

The count's body dissolved into bats, and he returned to his abode, ready and waiting for the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen to come after him with a vengeance. And then he could show them the true nature of "extraordinary."


End file.
